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| ~Bio :: Nhadnay Tüm YellowBritches; Ashaman al'Aman Val | |
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| Topic Started: Oct 12 2009, 05:33 AM (125 Views) | |
| Nhadnay | Oct 12 2009, 05:33 AM Post #1 |
Asha'man al'Aman Val
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hmmm so i'm putting up a new bio for Nhadnay; figured it would be less messy then to have an updated version on the second page of the original and i finally got around to updating him to the pointsystem with an update to his flow affinities (which were wrongly based on his overall strength in the beginning) anyhow... i'll keep this to 4 seperate posts (if there's no wordlimit... if so it might end up with a few more ;) ) the general information in this; then in the next: the short version of the bio, for those you don't want to have to read the whole bloody thing. Skip this if you intend to read the full bio! And after that the whole bio, divided in the part before coming to the towers (from the original, but i'm a perfectionist), and the new addition of what has happened since joining the Black Tower. EDIT: hmmm apparently the boards automatically attach 'doubleposts' together... so as opposed to 4 neat posts it's going to be 1 huge... sorry. Character info: Name: Nhadnay Tüm YellowBritches Age: 106 Nationality: Sharan Ashaman al Aman Val Channeling information: Time spent in training: Age at which he started Channeling 24 - base strength in the One Power: 21 Age at which he was raised to the Sword Pin: 33 Age at which he was raised to the Dragon Pin: 74 Current strength in the One Power: 71 : above weak: the weakest Ashaman in the Black Tower Flow affinities: Spirit: 10 Earth: 10 Fire: 9 Air: 9 Water: 8 He is extremely skilled in using the one power, and knows just about every commonly known weave in the Black Tower plus a number of the more hidden ones. But considering his weak strength, most weaves will just fizzle once he finishes them. His broad knowledge of weaves makes him a good teacher, but in combat or other One Power related situations he is near useless (provided he is not given an angreal or lead of a Circle, but most people do not think of that, and he does not bring it up willingly, for reasons of his own). Talents: Dreaming, Dreamwalking, Dreamtravelling About Nhadnay Appearance: Nhadnay still has an exotic look about him. As always the Su’Nar necklace, a tight-fitting collar with seven rings on it, piercing through his skin, draws the eye of everyone he meets. The tattoo on his forehead and the one running from his chin to his shoulder also seem to interest the people of the Westlands. He leaves them guessing to their origin and meaning. He has a darkly tanned skin, and age has done nothing but good things to his figure. The constant training and fighting he goes through has kept him well built, and the realization of his worth as an Ashaman has changed his posture from the meekness of a slave to the confidence of one who knows where he stands in the world. His usage of the One Power has kept his features resembling that of a person around 30 years old, though the swearing on the oath rod has started to give him an ageless look. He keeps his darkbrown hair cropped short, only barely covering his ears, lately the years have started putting a few grey strands in his hair, this only enhances his look. On his dark skin, his light, emerald green eyes are striking features, only barely less intriguing then his silver Su’Nar. He is widely considered incredibly attractive by women and while he knows this, he rarely thinks of it actively. Behavior: Nhadnay rarely speaks, and if he does he keeps short in a too-slow westland accent. On the extremely rare occasion that he will speak in annoyance or while in a rush, he will drop the fake accent and pick up his native high-pitched overly fast paced sound, which few people will understand (especially while being surprised). If one were to meet him in Tel’Aran’Rhiod, his dream-self will fluidly adapt the voice of either of his first two roomies ever in the Black Tower: Edeleas Al’Cuar and Resolute Al’Therin. His multitude of years spent in the towers have granted him understanding of how the world works and the worth of people in it, as well as his own worth. He does no longer consider himself to be a slave. The Ashaman, while all of them have higher standing due to their strength in the One Power, are his peers. The dedicated and Soldiers his students. He now understands that the Aes Sedai are no mistresses to him, but equals of sorts, and while he shows them utmost respect, he has realized that he has a right to deny their requests. The Gaidin he considers as a strange sort of highly trained houseguards and those who are bonded are personal slaves. Though he has long since learned they are touchy on that subject. He does not fully understand Bonding, regarding it as a form of enslavement, which he now seriously resents. Suggesting a bond is one of the rare things that will anger him, as at least one Aes Sedai has noted. He is calm, composed and will rarely make rushed decisions Non-One power related talents: sharing pillows, cooking, the flute, the harp, the bittern, and some other, unknown, Sharan instruments. Short bio; skip this if you intend to read the full thing. Born as a male child to the Ayyad in Shara, Nhadnay was raised the traditional Sharan way: as human breeding cattle. Along with the other males at the sheltered Ayyad villages, Nhadnay learned only a very limited set of skills. He however was different from his peers through the strange, life-like dreams he had. When he realized that his strange dreams held messages, glimmers of what might come to pass, he used them to escape certain death at age 21. He managed to escape the village only to end up being picked up by shore hunters and sold off as a slave. An offhand comment to him about `being allowed his weeping in silence´ gave him the idea never to speak a word again, as not to reveal where he came from. He has since then been perceived as mute. Because Nhadnay, or Tüm as he was named as slave, still had no idea of how free life felt, he adjusted easily to his new lifestyle, but once more, after a few years he followed his dreams and now even Travelled through them to a new destination in his life. After the most bizarre dream he ever had, Nhadnay arrived on his dreamship to a harbor, overshadowed by a gigantic stone castle; the Stone of Tear. His rather unorthodox appearance there caused quite a disturbance and soon he was whisked off to the twin towers of his dreams: the Black and White Towers at Tar Valon, home of the Ashaman and Aes Sedai. When Nhadnay first set foot in the Towers, he was still dressed in his Sharan garb, bright yellow, wide britches with a clashing blue sash holding a herb-pouch, dark chested and barefooted. This earned him the nickname YellowBritches. Some of his other nicknames became The Mute and the Silent One amongst the initiates of the Black Tower, as well as a few choice nicknames amongst those of the White Tower (mainly based on his looks and skills). It took Nhadnay several years to adjust to the life of a Soldier at the Black Tower. Especially the first months he spent in penance of breaking rules he did not realize he was breaking, or being interrogated –in vain- by the al’dieb cha and the browns. Once he was taught to write, his tutors had expected to get some answers from him, but were, once more sourly disappointed as Nhadnay often simply did not know the answers to the questions they asked of him. (or acted as if he did not know… at that point he had realized the similarities between the Ayyad and Aes Sedai and did not want them to send him back to them.) They did however manage to get him to write down his name `Nhadnay Tüm YellowBritches´ and while they were somewhat confused by it, he was since then officially written in the SoldierBook with that name. After nine years Nhadnay was put to his arches, and though they shook him to his core, he managed to return from them as a Dedicated. Nhadnay is far from strong in the One Power even though he has near perfect control over the flows. When he was found in Tear he had the spark and was on the brink on learning, so no block has managed to form on that account. He is however one of the most powerful dreamwalkers the Twin Towers have ever known, and even before putting on the Soldierblack, he had a strong grasp on walking in the `world that is not´ and trying to interpret his life-like dreams. He has developed a block of sorts on walking in Tel’Aran’Rhiod and touching others’ dreams; he is only able to go there once he has shared pillows with a woman. This block is, to date still not broken, but has rarely posed a problem because of his uncanny attraction women tend to feel to him. One night, after some stolen time with an accepted, Nhadnay once more finds himself in Tel’Aran’Rhiod when he is discovered by a dreamwalking Aes Sedai and is soon placed under –rather unneeded- tutelage in the dreamworld. For somewhat over 40 years Nhadnay has worn merely the sword pin on his collar, this because of his weak strength. In that time he has worked towards a larger understanding of the world and the people in it. Most of the his time he spent, like most accepted and dedicated, locked up in their respective tower, but every once in a while an aes sedai or ashaman would take one or more of them out into the world on various missions. One such mission lasted over a year and took him back to his native country under the supervision of a brown sister to whom he had grown close even under his years as soldier and who was the only person in the Twin Towers who knew he could speak. A sloppy comment when they returned, revealed to the towers of his homeland, and once more he spent several months in the presence of browns and al’dieb cha’s. During the rest of his time, Nhadnay taught classes to soldiers and other dedicateds. His refusal to speak made it rather impossible for him to teach most subjects, so he stayed with teaching channeling classes. Nearly 40 years of focusing on nothing but weaves has fine-tuned his already keen handling and broad knowledge of weaves. And while he is able to form just about all publicly known weaves in the Black Tower, his threads in the one power are far too weak and most of them will just fizzle them when he finishes weaving them. After 41 years he is finally deemed strong enough to take his Final Test and make the 100 weaves. At this point Nhadnay is over 70 already, and has no problem what-so-ever with keeping his composure and calm while taking the test, but he has to struggle for the strength to actually form the weaves. While he has been on the brink of burning himself out for more than one weave during the Testing, Nhadnay managed to finish his 100 weaves and was awarded the Dragon Pin as an Ashaman of Aman Val. The night of his raising into the Shen, some friends took Nhadnay out to a bar, where, for the first time in his life, Nhadnay drank alcohol. The night became increasingly pleasant, and after far more beer then he could handle, Nhadnay surprised his peers with singing a few songs from his homeland. Whoops… :p Once more, Nhadnay got grilled about how he all of a sudden has `found his voice´. Realizing he could not keep silent anymore, he reluctantly, finally answered them. On the rare occasions Nhadnay feels obliged to speak, he does so in low tones and very slowly in an attempt to mimic the Westlands accent. When he becomes truly agitated or rushed, he might fall back to his native accent, an extremely fast and high pitched sound which few people will understand. After about a year he gets sent on shen business to the borderlands and has spent about 30 years there now, advising the thrones, fighting the Blight and haunting the dreams of Trollocs. A few years ago, Nhadnays Dreams gave him glimpses of a war which was on the brink of happening. For some time he stayed where he was and made sure he would Dream each night as not to miss any important messages. He interpreted them as good as possible and then sent them off to his Rei, who knew better then to dismiss them. Knowing what was about to happen, the Rei decided to keep Nhadnay on his duty in the Borderlands and instead started summoning a number of the stronger channelers back to the Tower for the coming war. The war started, raged and ended. Nearly a year has passed since the war officially ended, and finally everything has started to settle down. Once more the Rei Aman Val sends his strong channelers to the Borderlands to worry about important business, and finally calls home a weak Sharan ashaman to have a chat about what lies in dreams and weaves. Edited by Nhadnay, Oct 12 2009, 05:42 AM.
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Nhadnay Tüm YellowBritches Ashaman al'Aman Val | |
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| Nhadnay | Oct 12 2009, 05:43 AM Post #2 |
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Asha'man al'Aman Val
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Before joining the Black Tower In Douva Like any boychild born in an Ayyad village, Nhadnay grew up being one of ‘the males’ in Douva, a tattoo on his forehead marking him a child of the Ayyad, the Channellers of the mysterious Shara. In Douva Nhadnay happened to be one of the only males of his age; having preciously few friends among others; after all; the many girls of his age always had other things to do, they had their education and were shielded from the males till some degree. So Nhadnay grew up quite lonely, learning preciously few things; and after nearly 15 years his life was nothing more then waking up in the rooms of the males, getting washed and dressed, making food –something at which he had learned to be rather good at- and then leave for work. His work was not that varying either; Sometimes it was chopping wood, then it was working on the field or herding the cattle or fishing near the shores. The only things he learned besides those tasks was how to play instruments, this in order to entertain the Ayyad females since no non-ayyad was allowed in their village. Even though his only masters would be young men; and occasionally one of the women, Nhadnay became quite good with a number of instruments It was around the age of 15 that things started to change slightly. At first it started only sporadically but later on the strange, realistic dreams started occurring and re-occurring more frequent. Nhadnay, whose only occupation of his mind was not to chop in his own fingers, had plenty of time to think about these dreams and started spending most of his time trying to figure them out. Sometimes he dreamt of things and they seemed to come true… but it would only be after the dreams stopped that he could connect his dreams with an event that had passed. There was however one dream that kept coming back. He stood on shore, looking over the sea before him, the sight was so beautiful it nearly made him cry. On his shoulder sat a beast. A small lizard like creature with wings. It’s colors changing from either scarlet and gold to pitch black. It was a part of him… a part of who he was. Behind him he heard footsteps and the shout of peacocks; he knew it were women of the Ayyad, they always looked like proud peacocks in his dreams. As he turned around, the strange creature that sat on his shoulder now flew before his eyes, blocking his eyesight completely. Blinded by his strange colorshifting companion he felt the hands of the Ayyad women around his arms leading him on, into a boat and making it move. Nhadnay could see the dream, not trough his own –blinded- eyes now, but from somewhere above he witnessed how a young man sat in a boat, two women near him, letting the boat move onward onto a new shore… a shore where everything seemed to be new, a shore that had a welcome to him. As Nhadnay stepped out of the boat the weird lizardlike creature returned once more to his shoulder and he saw that the Ayyad were no longer behind him. In-between his feet however; he witnessed a young flower blossoming, as if his presence had given birth to it. The same dream…. Over and over again… first sporadically, but around his 16th name day every night they returned. Until one night; nothing special had happened on that day, nor during the night, but for the absence of any dreams. Somewhat confused Nhadnay woke up the next morning and returned to his daily chores; herding the Ne’Horns. The morning went by quite uneventfully until at noon he could see the entrance doors to the village open and a chariot enter. He moved closer, expecting to welcome another young man; after all, the chariots only came to either bring a man or take one away. To his surprise however he saw the village oldest point a finger at him and he realized that the men he had seen taken away from this village had been either his age, or young adults. Without too much fuss he stepped into the wagon after gathering his few belongings. He had been told by other men that he would merely make a trip and live elsewhere, and that later on, after being trained fully he’d make another trip and be released into the world outside the walls of the secluded Ayyad village. Inside the chariot he was blindfolded even before they passed trough the gates of Douva. He immediately felt a strange feeling of having done this trip before… a lot. Before his eyes colors seemed to play as the golden sun shone down upon his black blindfold and let his eye show him either a reddish color or the golden shine. Or the black if he turned his head away from the sun; it was as if that strange lizard was still flying before his eyes, blinding him. In Karkam For nearly a week they traveled, only stopping when needed, and the few times Nhadnay was allowed to leave the chariot he could always feel shivers running down his spine as he felt at least two Ayyad holding him, making sure he would see nothing of the land. As the sixth day ended the chariot arrived at another walled village; Karkam he was told the village was called, and once more it lay by the shore. Once they stopped his blindfold was taken of and before he had time to let his eyes adjust to the ‘bright’ light, he was pushed into a group of men who were just a tad older then him it seemed. He followed the men into a building and gratefully accepted the food they gave him. The young men of Karkam also gave him an explanation he had not been given by those in Douve, and had to swear not to give it to any other then new arrivals to Karkam. As the night went by, Nhadnay learned of the customs of the Ayyad men, of what their ‘cause’ was here in Karkam; what the women expected and how he should treat them. And as well what the tattoo on his forehead meant. –or at least what they knew of it- Dawn already broke trough by the time Nhadnay had heard it all and had tried to remember it. Surely now he understood why in his dream a flower had sprung to life between his feet; making him feel as if it had been his presence giving birth to it. The way his dream had been completely correct scared him; but he decided not to say a word to anyone about it. Another thing he kept his silence about were other strange dreams stat started occurring after the first night he spent with a woman. As he lay in her bed, letting the sleep sink in his mind was wandering because of what had happened earlier today, and his dreams would not come; another thing however did come. He stood in the midst of the village and all was quit. A mysterious light that came from neither moon nor sun shone down upon the village, making everything visible though vague nonetheless. He started walking around looking at the houses, his gaze drawn by a door which seemed to be closed, but the next moment was completely open. And then he noticed other things that randomly appeared, disappeared or reappeared; and he got scared, wishing to eave the strange place. He woke up with the scent of a woman beside him and quickly realized that he was once more in his ‘lovers’ bedroom. The next night he tried to get into that dream again, but to no avail; the dreams seemed only to come after he spent the night being with a woman. Less then one year later, he was brought to the oldest of the village, mistress Alina to receive his first ring. This was one of the customs of the women of Karkam. After all; with the Ayyad, all bloodlines were kept thoroughly –think Tearans and their horses- and if a man with a good lineage brought forth a son with someone who’d enhance that bloodline, he would be given a ring in his neck. The rings would be pierced trough the neck and by the Ayyads magic molten back together as to stay there forever. As he was passed along by the women, fulfilling the duty he was born to do; he gained more rings over the years; and somewhere in his 19th year his current ‘lover’ decided he could wear a Su’Nar; a Pleasure Necklace that showed he was not just giver of good children, but that he also was enjoyable in bed. The necklace was a thin, short one that fitted around his neck more like a collar and was laced trough the coin-sized rings in his neck. Once more the eldest used the Ayyad magic to melt the Su’Nar together. Time passed and life did not change the slightest bit; whenever he was not doing the biddings of a woman, Nhadnay either went out fishing or work the wood he chopped. But then one day, but a few months away from his 21st nameday, hi dreams showed him something peculiar, something slightly familiar but with a drastically different ending. Like about 5 years ago he stood on shore, looking over the sea before him, the sight was once more beautiful, but this time he also felt strange, queasy as if something was not right. On his shoulder again sat the golden-scarlet or black winged lizard. Even stronger now it felt like it was a part of who he was. Behind him he heard footsteps and the shout of peacocks; the women of the Ayyad. He remembered how the other dreams had been and knew what would happen. He turned around and –as it had done so many years ago- the strange creature that sat on his shoulder now flew before his eyes, blocking his eyesight completely. Blinded by his strange colorshifting companion he felt the hands of the Ayyad women around his arms leading him on, into a boat and making it move. This time too Nhadnay could see the dream from somewhere above, but this time, as he witnessed how a young man sat in a boat, two women near him, letting the boat move onward, he felt angst coming up; a feeling of something bad that would happen. His rising anxiety seemed not to be without reason for this time, still at sea, the two Ayyad suddenly turned into peacocks and flew up; their wings sounding in low hisses, as if a warning for what would come. As two bright columns of fire, aimed at the boat, originated from the peacocks; Nhadnays head shot up; shivering yet sweating under his blankets. Like those years ago, the dream came back; each time making him shoot up all sweated. At first they were sporadically, but then they started coming fast, and nearly a month before his nameday they came each single night… that is, each night he was not doing the biddings of one of the Ayyad who seemed rather fond of his company. Those nights he would explore the strange other kind of dream he had in the ‘world that is not’ as he called it. But a month is long, and by the time he suddenly had a dreamless night he already was extremely nervous an stressed out. Even at the moment he woke up he was already moving. Uncaring about the few belongings he had he snuck out of the men’s house and headed to the little harbor where he had been planning his departure for nearly a month now. During his years of fishing, Nhadnay had already experienced that indeed he could not sail so that he could see any part of the land; the shores had walls as well; and he could not follow the shore because there was some sort of invisible wall of air keeping him from it. Surely he could fish , just not near the shore or far away. However the wall was only a bit in the water, for he had discovered before that one could –at certain points- dive underneath it; something he had been doing quite a few times now in order to make a raft on the other side of the wall a bit further upshore and to put some belongings there. All for this moment. As he had reached the water he looked at the village once more and tried to settle down the feeling of queasiness inside him. He had never left the village. Had never been to the real world where not all he needed was available… where they might have different customs… It frightened him; and for a moment he wanted to just walk back and lay down in his secure bed. But then the dream flashed up in his mind again, the sight of the flames turning the boat –and him in it- to ashes in mere second; and he solidly turned his back to the village and walked into the water which felt nice and cool compared to the heath that had been upon the land these past days. As he swum towards where he knew the wall of air wasn’t too deep; Nhadnay pondered about his children. Seven sons and five daughters; and he knew of two others who would not stay in their mothers laps for long anymore; could call him ‘father’ Should they ever been told who their father was. His daughters would stay with their mother, and the sons would be raised among the other ‘Males’ to be hooded and led away to become breeding cattle in another village, and then…. He shook his head and took a deep breath before diving, meanwhile his hands feeling the invisible wall. As usual it took him no trouble to get under it and to the other side; and after a while of swimming he reached the piece of beach surrounded by trees where his little raft lay. Under the pale light of the waning moon he got into a pair of dry clothes before pushing the raft into the water again. With peddles he made sure to at least have some direction; but mostly he let the sea lead him. For two days Nhadnay lived of the things he’d brought on his raft; but he had started to panic. Ha had not realized that the sea would have it’s will with him and that he might yet die on the raft. During the third night his luck changed though and his raft got picked up by a landwards current; a very strong and dangerous current, one that had cost the lives of many shipmen. One that this time saved a life rather then destroyed tens. With the Damuïsa Dawn broke trough as the shore hunters passed by the ‘treasure vault’ The night before had been rather stormy, and thus the chance of finding new shipwrecks would be even bigger. The reason why the little bay was called ‘the treasure vault’ was because there was a very mean sea current leading into it, and some extremely dangerous reefs to welcome any ship that had gotten astray. Most of the time only ships of foreigners were stranded here, but when a storm had swept the sea at night, sometimes a ship of athan’miere could be found, or even one of their own people. And the ones on the ships… well, most were dead, and those foreigners who weren’t when they were found were either killed immediately or –if they looked suited- enslaved. Nhadnay woke up a few brief moments; the first one he still was alone; lying on a rocky beach, pieces of wood and cloth all around him and a vague silhouette of a few ships nearby. It only lasted a few seconds before he once more succumbed; to wake up at the sound of voices; far off still. And then a third time as he felt his body being moved. His eyes opened up and he saw the side of a mans face, and heard him shout “This one is still alive, and he’s a valuable one” the man looked at him and ran his fingers over the Su’Nar for a moment. Before easing Nhandays scared face with some clacking of his tongue as Nhadnay himself had often used trying to calm down a Ne’Horn. It worked however and once more Nhadnay sunk into a sumber, only to wake up again by the movement of a cart; feeling soft fabric around him. As his head shot up he looked into the eyes of a young woman sitting besides him “ssshish… there is no need to worry.” He looked at her for a moment and then started looking around; wondering where he was. “I am sorry. Your Master is no more.” As a confused look came on Nhadnays face the girl continued, assuming by his tattooed forehead that Nhadnay had been his masters favorite slave; and that he had been a passenger of one of the two ships that had made shipwreck that night. “Your masters ship got caught in the storm last night and ran on the reefs. You are the only surviver. But no worries… we will bring you to Palargioso and find you a new master soon. You are allowed your weeping in silence.” It somehow felt as if he was addressed like a young child; and that last line even made him feel like one of the Ne’Horns. But it did however give him an idea. The woman had spoken about a lot of things he hardly understood, but he was allowed to be silent; and he took that by heart. He would be silent. So that no-one would manage to get anything out of him; for after all he had no idea of the world outside Douve and Karkam; and feared being found out about. A little while later; after Nhadnaay had been given new clothes to wear and some food to fill his empty stomach, the cart stopped at the midst of a very busy place. It somehow seemed like a square but only he had never seen any square this busy. The woman in his cart opened started tying his hand together and he let her do as she pleased; after all, it was a man’s job to please the woman he was with if she wanted something. But the only thing she did was open the door and lead him outside on the rope; once more as if he was a mere Ne’Horn. Feeling looked at by everyone, he simply looked around as his feet followed the woman and his leash. As they reached a big high stand on the square Nhadnay saw plenty others standing there, tied up as Ne’Horns as well, some tattooed as well. For the young ayyad it all made no sense; what was he doing here? What would they do with him; and what was all that Master talk about? “No no my child… just be good… we will see each other again.” The sound of a mother soothing her crying child caught his attention and he looked at them. Both the mother as the child bore a tattoo; a hooked star o their left cheek and stood by a man whose chariot bore said same sign. “I’m sure your new master will be kind. Just do as you always have done; be nice, do as he says and don’t try to run away and you’ll be fine. One day we will see each other again.” As the two hugged each other Nhadnays eyes went up to their master who was doing business with another; seemingly wealthy man. And as both shook hands the other man just snapped his fingers and one of the people close to him; a rose on their clothes, grabbed the girls rope and dragged her along, still crying as she went. “it’s sad isn’t it? That they are even buying children instead of letting them grow up with their parents.” Nhadnay jumped up a bit as the man before him in the line started talking to him; apparently he had followed his gaze to the little drama. The man bore no tattoos on his face yet. “Steran…” he said as a manner of introduction; and Nhadnay nodded to him; but kept his lips sealed. “Had a nice instrument shop; made beautiful harps and lutes and all you can think of. But well… couldn’t pay my debts. At least I am still valued somewhat. Unlike them workers there.” He nodded to another line, all with people in chains, quite a few of them their heads completely tattooed. The man talked a bit and Nhadnay listened intensely; trying to pick up whatever he could. And making an image of what would happen. He had been called a slave, just like all the others in either ropes or chains he could see; and the more tattoos on a face or body, the more owners the person had been a slave of. Slave. The word sounded strange to him and he wasn’t certain what to think of it; he was supposed to be working for someone, doing heir biddings and be loyal to them. Like he had to the women all his life. The line kept getting shorter and shorter and after a while, Nhadnay found himself being led onto the little stage and have an explanation about his life under a very wealthy master, with a weird story about how he ended up being sold again, and some boasting about his skills in bed. Then off course there was some showing of his teeth, his ears –making his cheeks burn a bit- and his muscles. And then people started shouting lots of things; he did not know what they were shouting; after all, it was of no use to him that he learned to count, so why teach him numbers. In the end he was lead away and taken to a noble woman with a somewhat big grin on her face and he was taken in care by other people; other slaves he assumed. He was pushed into another chariot and three other people; one of which with two tattoo’s but all three roped like him; were put in the chariot as well. After some hours of driving they arrived at a huge mansion and were led to some chambers, and as each of them were put on a bench; their bodies held by various shackles four men came in and started putting needles in their skin; followed by ink… in order to give them a new –and rather big- tattoo going from their chin to their shoulder. The ones giving the tattoos each had one themselves and were actually rather kind to the new ones; giving them a explanation about the rules of the house Damuïsa and about Lady Damuïsa herself. Then they started explaining the two ones without other tattoos a bit more about the life of a slave in general; something Nhadnay once more listened to intensely, and learned whatever he could. Quite some hours had passed before the tattoos were complete and they were allowed to go off to their new beds. Nhadnay had been given a small; hard bed, but he fell asleep immediately anyways. The next morning he was awoken early and immediately put on his livery as he’d been told the night before. Following one of his colleagues he moed down trough the maze that was the house and ended up in a small kitchen, seating quite a few other slaves who briefly introduced themselves, once again he only nodded before sitting down and eating. After dinner he was led to meet his mistress Lady Damuïsa who promptly named him Tüm without even bothering to find out his name. Nhadnay just nodded and did as he was told to. Time went by, and Nhadnay stayed at the house where he filled his days with serving and doing the ladies bidding. After about a year the lady had ordered him to become a bit of her personal guard, and thus he had been put under the real guards to train, but his training was far from thorough and the only thing he actually managed to use with some form of skill at the moment was the bow; his fingers were for the finer work, pleasing women , preparing food, playing instruments etc… Over time Nhadnay learned and saw more of the land he lived in; he saw the giants working on the bridges, gazed upon more wonders of his land, and accompanied his mistress veiled and cloaked as she traded with foreigners in the nearby walled port city of Sh’Andriaxa; his eyes drawn by the magnificent Sea Folk and other ships. His life was far from bad actually; as the mistress favorite pleasure slave, Nhadnay, or rather Tüm, did not have to do a lot of heavy or bad work; and even though he wanted to see more of the land, or the sea, he had no real desire to leave. Then the dreams started again. This time however they seemed even more sporadic, but Nhadnay knew that because of the fact he spent most of his nights in bed with his mistress, he was more of the time in the ‘world that is not’ and thus didn’t get the strange warning dreams a lot. For the third time he stood on the beach, once more looking over it; his strange companion on his shoulder; circling around his neck; this time it was more then just a part of him; it felt as if he was his strange companion… As he expected to turn around and see the peacock Ayyad women come closerby; nothing happened; surely he turned around, but the weird lizardthingie stayed circling around his neck, not blinding him, and no women came near. There was a boat however; and at the other side of the water something seemed to call him. Unlike the other two times he got into the boat alone and started rowing himself; towards the new land. As he reached it he saw a big building very close and beyond it; very far away was something else… A white peacock and a creature as on his shoulder were flying entwined; and the one on his shoulder left towards them; drawing himself closer as well. It made little sense to him as usual, and the fact that over a year the dreams were coming and nothing happened confused him even more; until one evening. That day, Tüm had accompanied his mistress to the shore city once more as she traded with an Athan’Miere man. And somehow the man felt strange to him… as if something inside him echoed within himself… Nhadnay had been having a weird feeling all day and come night, he had been slightly distracted while pleasing his mistress, to her annoyance. Because of her displeasure for his absentminded behavior he had been given ten strokes of the whip and then had been Cured by an Ayyad whose only reason for not recognizing him as an ayyad as well was his headband he wore all the time so everyone would believe that Lady Damuïsa was his first and only mistress. That night Nhadnay had cried all alone in his room. It was not the first time he had displeased his mistress, but tonight he just felt too bad. When sleep finally came it somehow felt different. He was once more in the ‘World that is no world’ but somehow it felt more real. He walked away, imagining a horse by his side and then rode it towards the city at the shore were the ships of the athan’miere were. Something shifted and for a moment it felt as if he was in the real world again, for darkness was upon him as he walked onto the ship. but it lasted only for a few moments and then all was noram again... well that stranger form of normal at least. Off course Nhadnay assumed No-one was aboard, there never was anyone in the strange world besides for some people who seemed to randomly appear and disappear. As he got to the rudder of the ship he made it move while he marveled at what he could do in this world. Surely he knew that things that happened here were not real; but he wanted to have been on such a grand ship and see the rest of the world, even if it was in this dreamworld. The trip took longer then he had expected but before dawn he noticed more signs of civilization after seeing nothing but rocky shores. And suddenly he saw something he had seen in his dreams, that one special building, made entirely out of stone. He willed the ship to go to shore there, into the harbor and then got off and as he was walking down the plank things started changing again, and even though it somehow felt like the dream had ended, he could now feel the chill of sudden moonlit night and see the Stone of Tear looming up above him In the Westlands Tired and cold, Nhadnay moved trough the foreign streets Something weird had happened, he had dreamt that he traveled to this place, but now he really was here. And he had no idea where he was anyways. Dawn was already breaking trough and in the harbor he started hearing a fuss; people started rushing pas him and he heard something about a ‘strange athan’miere ship just appearing out of nowhere’. Nhadnays eyes followed one of the people that passed, they were very funny dressed and talked extremely slow and their hair! The people had no decency here! With his cheeks blushing furiously he touched his ears and then his Su’Nar. He knew he had to look for the white peacocks and the lizardthingies… but he had no idea how to start. No idea what so ever. Edited by Nhadnay, Oct 12 2009, 05:52 AM.
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Nhadnay Tüm YellowBritches Ashaman al'Aman Val | |
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| Nhadnay | Oct 12 2009, 05:45 AM Post #3 |
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Asha'man al'Aman Val
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After joining the Black Tower untill now What’s in a name? Nhadnay looked at the man in front of him as he reached for a big black book. “I have been told you have now learned your letters.” He stated, it was not a question, so Nhadnay did not react to him; it did not seemed to bother the Master of Soldiers. “So, it should be about time I get to write you down in the Book of Soldiers” he roughly slid forwards a piece of paper and a pen. “go ahead and give me your name soldier.” Nhadnay looked at the pen and paper. By the birds, what is this man going on about? What is their constant obsession with knowing everything, and having me repeat things they already know? Inwardly he arched an eyebrow, but he did as he was told, and wrote down his name in the letters he had been taught. They looked childish and you could easily see his hand was new to writing but had the promise of a beautiful, artistic hand. Putting his tongue between his teeth he wrote a large –Y-, after it followed an –e-, then two times an –l-,… when he was done he handed the paper back to the Master of Soldiers whose brows rose as he read the single word: “YellowBritches” For a moment he was silent and then he shoved the paper back. “ your name soldier, your real name” Once more Nhadnay sat befuddled, wondering about the strangeness about these people. He put his finger on the paper, pointing at the single word on it. “Well we cannot go about calling one of our blackcoats for YellowBritches, don’t you have another name man?” The Master of Soldiers now retorted, his voice sounding vexed. Nhadnay took up the pen once more and when he handed over the paper this time, three more words stood on it. “Nhadnay Tüm YellowBritches” Once more the Master of Soldiers arched an eyebrow at the last word, but then he gave up. “Fine” he said in a resigned tone “now leave my sight”. Nhadnay got up, and with a short bow he left the room to return back to his chores. Back in the study, the Master of Soldiers shook his head as he wrote a long-overdue name in the Book of Soldiers. “Nhadnay Tüm YellowBritches” The way back comes but once It was one of those horrible days when frozen water fell down from the skies. Nhadnay had been in the Black tower for nearly ten years now, and even though he had started to understand the rules long since, a lot of things felt so exotic and strange to him. Like having to be outside and work with weapons in this horrible, horrible snowstorm. Sweating under his clothes and freezing on his ears and hands, Nhadnay stood outside and crossed trainingswords with a dedicated, when suddenly an ashaman walked up to him. “Nhadnay Tüm YellowBritches, follow me.” It was all he said, but it was enough for Nhadnay. He quickly bowed to the dedicated, put away his training swords and ran to catch up with the man. Strangely enough, they did not walk towards the black tower, but to the white. Dread settled into Nhadnays stomach. The dread only grew as they started going downwards on a flight of stairs, Nhadnay knew where they were heading, his dreams had been strange lately, but he had not understood, he did now. A few moments later they arrived at a large door, with inside the Master of Soldiers standing in front of three large, silver arches. oh Birds, help me Words dictated by tradition older then memory were uttered, and soon Nhadnay stood naked, not noticing the worried glances at his Su’Nar. Determined he walked towards the first arch. "The first time is for what was. The way back will come but once. Be steadfast." When he came back out, his eyes were wide, his lips shivering, and had he been any Westlands man, his face would have been as white as a novices dress, as it was, his dark tan had managed to fade down to the olive complexion of an Altaran. A chalice of cold water was emptied over his head and he was sent back into the arches, to come out shivering all over his body, and looking at his hands with a disgusted look. He wiped them on his bare legs, but could not draw his horror-struck eyes away from them, his skin had adopted a sickening green tinge, and for a moment the Master of Soldiers had feared the lad would sick up right there and then. But he did not, and after yet another chalice of cold water on his head, Nhadnay was sent into his final arch. When he finally came out, his skin had returned to its natural dark color, not a single part of his body shook, but silent tears glistened in his eyes and rolled over his cheeks. As the Master of Soldiers emptied the last chalice of cold water over the new Dedicates head, he caught Nhadnays glance at him; a heart wrenching look that needed no words to convey the pain, the devastation and mostly the question why this torture was a necessity. Silently the Sharan man dressed once more, was awarded with the sword pin and sent on his way, his eyes looked dead, and continued to look that way for a number of months to come. Beauty Swish… Swish… Swish… The brush slowly, methodically scraped the floor, leaving behind nearly as much dust as it moved. Nhadnay sighed softly, cursing himself for getting caught. He had been in the Accepteds quarters a few nights past, again, only that night he had quite literally walked straight into the arms of a White sister, a months’ worth of sweeping floors, scrubbing and generally cleaning up in the infirmary had been the reward for his small trip into their dorms. At least he had not gotten caught inside the Accepteds room… that would have had slightly nastier consequences. After all, it was a comfortable warm temperature inside the infirmary, and he got to skip out on some of the more tedious reading in the library, nothing there held his interest for all too long, and his eyes and head tended to hurt after a while of staring at the dull parchment. Not that the infirmary wasn’t dull though… He had been sweeping and scrubbing for nearly a week now, and absolutely nothing had happened, aside from a little boy sicking up a large number of times, including once on Nhadnay. He had not even finished his thoughts when his ears perked up at the sound of a commotion outside. As he moved closer to the door, flanked by an accepted that had been rolling new gauze on a womans arm, the doors burst open and one of the gaidin stormed in. The first thing Nhadnay noticed was the look on his face. There was an odd mix that came across clearly, far too clearly for the small amount of emotions the warders usually showed. Concentration. Urgency. A broiling storm. Hope. Determination, and lastly… Fear? “Go fetch your strongest healer, NOW” he bellowed. The command made Nhadnay snap out of his study of the man’s face and instead notice the bloody heap in his arms, clothed in flards of green and yellow. The accepted had turned on her heals and ran to fetch the Yellow sisters inside, but at the same time one of the N’dore al’Mordero stepped into the room, eyes wide at what he saw. Without breaking stride he moved to the heap in the warders arms and Nhadnay saw him weave a delving weave, instantly followed by a stream of healingweaves. “YellowBritches” get the Mahdi, RUN BOY!” he finished, roaring at the dedicated. The brush fell to the ground with a loud clang as Nhadnay spurted to the Black Tower, praying to the birds he would find the Mahdi in his office. As he reached the room, he barely paused to knock before storming in, finding the Ashamans personal servant staring him straight in his eyes with those scary golden eyes of hers. Ashaman Rialt sat behind his desk and looked up, his eyes storming over the rude intrusion, but he had no time to speak up before Nhadnays panic struck eyes and rapid gesticulating hands silenced him. Mere minutes later, Rialt Erydinan, Kiren Thym and Nhadnay rushed into the infirmary, where the Green Sister had been laid on a table with two Yellow Sisters and the Death Dancer, linked, standing over her, trying to keep her alive. Rialt moved to the woman, delved her quickly and then joined the circle, took command and did something that took Nhadnays breath away. He started with a single thread of Spirit, then one of Fire, Water, Earth, and then Air, followed by two more strands of Spirit, and as he wove all of them together in an intricate pattern he created even more strands of all five different powers. For a while he just kept weaving that one, incredibly intricate weave, and then it was finished, the pattern of the weave was the most beautiful thing Nhadnay had ever seen, the intricacy, the detail, the sheer amount of skill used was mindboggling. The Mahdi put the weave on the heap of flesh, somehow it stretched and enveloped her, and then it sank into her body, he put the last thread into place, the Aes Sedai convulsed slightly and then Nhadnay saw her change, where first little more than blood and gore had been, now new tissue formed and a thin layer of red skin seemed to form. “and who gave you permission to channel, dedicated?” the Mahdis voice suddenly sounded. Nhadnay blinked and looked at his hands, where he had started forming the same intricate weave that Ashaman Rialt had been making, though with his own threads of the One Power merely as thick as strands of hair. Surprised he let go of Saidin and made an apologetic bow, already dreading his new punishment. But the Mahdi was more surprised than angered; the weave he had been making was rather difficult, and the dedicated had managed to follow him up to a point where quite a few Ashaman beyond those with a talent for it could. That day Nhadnay started studying weaves. The sound of dreams Silently Nhadnay crept over the tower grounds, happy for the cover the rain brought. It was far beyond last toll, and he came back from a certain Accepteds room in the White Tower. A backdoor allowed him entrance in the Black Tower and he hurried to his room, praying to the Birds that he would not run into someone. He did not, and few moments later he lay in his bed, letting his thoughts wander as he slipped into the World That Is Not. He sat outside, there was no sun, there never was here, but it was still light. He had not been into this strange world that often since he had come to this Black Tower, and frankly he did not really see any need for it, but it still felt nice to just sit here, it felt peaceful. “I did not know the Black Tower had any dreamwalkers amongst their students.” The voice sounded from behind him. Nhadnay jumped where he was and twirled to face the woman who had spoken. She wore a beautiful silken gown, creamy white with brown slashes on it. Instinctively Nhadnay swapped from the garb of his homeland into the black of a dedicated, swordpin on his collar. It was done in the blink of an eye and he swiftly bowed politely to the Aes Sedai. “I believe I have seen you before, Dedicated, what is your name?” the woman asked, and for a moment Nhadnay wondered what he should do. “Nhadnay Tüm YellowBritches, Aes Sedai” the sound came from him, but his lips never moved, nor was the voice his, it was that of his first roomie, Edeleas Al’Cuar “YellowBritches… yes…” her voice trailed off; “how is it that a Dedicated is allowed free entrance in Tel’Aran’Rhiod?” If the woman had been surprised at his way of talking she showed no sign of it. Nhadnay cocked his head and answered in another voice that he was not aware of any limits on the World That Is Not. For some time the Aes Sedai and dedicated talked, and then she decided she would teach him in the world of dreams from now on. Nhanday, ofcourse could only comply. The first night they were to meet up, Nhadnay did not show up, nor did he the second or the third. Ailena Sedai had him sent to the Master of Soldiers for punishment before finding out that he could not enter the Dreamworld at choice; at that point she handed him a dream ter’angreal and their lessons started. Within Tel’Aran’Rhiod Nhadnay only had to learn small bits and tips, but he and the Aes Sedai came close, and after a while he did not need the ter’angreal anymore for their training sessions. Red = again! Calmly Nhadnay walked through the rows of soldiers, eyes flashing around so he could see all the weaves the boys were making. A stray weave of fire caught his eye. What is that child thinking? Does he want to blow his own face off using Fire this crudely? A slim flicker of air caught in the boys neck and a small red ball appeared in front of his face. Obediently the Soldier named Caran dropped the weave he had been making -Messing up rather- and started over, not even glancing over his shoulder to look at the Dedicated in charge. Nhadnay nodded softly and continued his round; he felt good here, home in his own classroom. It had been over thirty years since the Sharan had set foot into the Black Tower, and now he finally felt like he was where he was supposed to be, even if he still was a Dedicated. Ever since Nhadnay had been allowed to study Weaves and the theory and practice of Weaving, he had excelled at what he did with an uncanny affinity for the different flows, matched by no other Dedicated currently at the tower. Off course, while they were not able to weave the more intricate weaves Nhadnay knew, they had no problem getting of a simple and effective fireball, something he still lacked the strength for. After about ten years of studying weaves, Nhadnay had been given his own class to teach on the subject, whereas other Dedicateds were forced to take on the –in his eyes- utterly boring classes on theoretical things or weaponry. After some consideration, he had even been given a separate classroom, only for his own classes where he had set up a special communication system. On one of the walls he had tied off a set of 9 differently colored balls with a message next to them, the first ball being red, with the message reading: “Again!”, the last one being black with “Master of Soldiers” as message. The first few times he had taught classes, there had been a mass of black balls floating in front of the Soldiers faces, but once the children had settled down, they had actually started enjoying the peace and intense serenity that always lay thick on these silent classes. not quite home A brief knock sounded before the door was opened and Owan stuck his head instide, seemingly glad to see him. “Ashaman Edeleas wants to see you, YellowBritches” he said briefly, before the dedicated once more left. Surprised, Nhadnay got up and made his way to the office of the Master Of Soldiers; his former roomie when he had become a soldier. With a knock and a salute, Nhadnay waited for a command, trying not to think on why or how his former friend could have changed into this cold person. Fear settled into him, Edeleas scared him beyond imagining these days. “You are to follow some Brown Sister on a trip. Be sure not to make ears on any of her beloved books for I won’t have an earful of the White Tower of your misbehavior. You are to meet her at the West Stables by morning” Nhadnay once more saluted, before retreating to his room, wondering where he would be headed and with whom. For years, Nhadnay had been interrogated by various browns, but there had been only two whom he really knew. One, a recently raised sister, but she had been out travelling for several months now, and the other Ailena Sedai, would most likely have let him know the night before if she had any plans. The next morning he eyed Mika Sedai with curiosity as she was waiting for him at the stables, as always he greeted her like he would any other sister and silently obeyed her commands. When they left the Waygate and made their way over open plains in an area far warmer then Tar Valon, he finally spoke up; after All Mika Soljourn was his best friend and only person who knew that Nhadnay was no mute. They talked for hours, but when the Brown Sister finally explained her ideas, Nhadnay almost turned around. It took two full days to convince him to her cause, and close to a month in preparation alone, and then they set foot to Co’Dansin, Nhadnays homeland. How Mika had found out where he was from, the dedicated did not know, but he was terrified of what would happen. A year had passed before Nhadnay was visited in his dreams by another brown sister, with a message for Mika Sedai, and after only a small amount of time they arrived once more at the Fused Towers. About a week later, Nhadnay got hurriedly summoned to the library from teaching his class. He had no clue what was happening, but when he saw Mika sitting to the side, looking chastised of all things, dread started to grow in his gut once more The questioning about Shara began. Why’d it have to be feast of Lights? The room was dark, but for a candle in the window, reflecting the soft light seeping from the outside into the Dedicateds room. Outside thousands of candles were lit, the city seemed like a gigantic sparkling star and both the Black tower and the White were beacons of light where every single window was lit by a candle, carefully kept burning by a horde of servants that entered rooms which had not been opened in a year. Nhandnay pulled the blanket a bit further over his head. Normally the sharan looked like a 30-year old, with only a few graying hairs showing his true age of over 70 years now. His emeraldgreen eyes would shine clearly framed by a dark, stunning face. Now, he looked like a venerable old man in agony. He could not recall when it had started, only that it had crept up slowly many years ago, he would get only a slight headache then. Now, when a large storm was brewing, Nhanday would not be able to leave his room for two days until the storm broke out. His agonizing headaches and aching joints made him a better Wind reader then any of the Aes Sedai at times like this. Years ago, the ashaman would send him to the infirmary to have him healed, but there was nothing wrong with him, and thus nothing to heal. By now they accepted the fact that the silent dedicated would get sick for a few days before a storm, his classes would be rescheduled and a soldier would be sent up every few hours with a soothing broth, and when the storm broke out they would know that Nhadnay would once more sit at the breakfast table, bleary eyed from the days past, but able to work and learn. A question of Strength A warm sun blazed in the sky as Nhadnay sat outside in the shade of a rosebush, his eyes going over a book on engineering. The topic was tedious and if he kept this up much longer he would get another headache, but it had been an order from one of the Al Dieb’Cha. "Arise. You have been summoned. Tarry no further, we must not waste time." The words were said briskly and even while getting up Nhadnay looked into the face of one of the younger Death Dancers. He had barely managed his salute to the man who was by a number of years his younger, before he was blindfolded and led away. So this is finally it. I had almost thought I would be kept a Dedicated until I died. Calmly Nhadnay walked along with the young ashaman, matching the young man stride for stride. The sharan knew he was ready for the Test, he had been for at least five years, and all his years in the Tower had given him the air of confidence that usually only came years after one was raised to the Dragon Pin. But then, most men in the Black Tower did not spent fifty years with only the Sword Pin. As they arrived into the grand room, ringed with candles, the blindfold was removed and the Master of Soldiers spoke up. "Attend." A number of ashaman moved. "You come in ignorance, Nhadnay. How would you depart?" Formality and Tradition dictated that the words had to be asked and answered, and when he had first been explained the tradition he had wondered how he would handle it. The question was taken out of his hands as his old mentor Laridan moved up beside him and spoke in his stead. Nhadnay soundlessly mimicked the words as the other man spoke, answering them to himself. The Oval Tar’Angreal ring was activated and Nhadnay was sent in. As he had expected were the hundred weaves hard, and the diversions rather unpleasant. But Nhadnay was not one of those young louts that were usually sent into the Ring, he had already matured and found his composure, and small distractions would not cause him any problems. The weaves in themselves however… Of course he could complete the weaves, but quite a number of them required strength that pushed him to his limit, not to mention that they were seldom used solely, often Nhadnay had to start yet another weave to ward off the distractions. For about half of the hundred weaves Nhadnay walked very close to that dangerous border within Saidin, and a handful of times he felt the searing pain that told him he was drawing too much of the one power. He was quite resolute about stamping down the thoughts of burning himself out. When he finished the hundredth weave and stepped out of the Ring, his legs were wavering, he was covered in wounds, and a headache almost had him fainting. Healing was gratefully accepted, and after a warm meal he spent a night in deep contemplation about what would happen the next day. Clad in a pristine black uniform, his sword pin shining, Nhadnay was once more led deep into the tower to a gathering of Ashaman. If the ashaman had been unsure on how to have a mute swear on the Oath Rod, they showed none of it but instead just let tradition go along. Nhadnay put his hand on the rod that was offered to him, and, as a flow of spirit was led into it, he silently mouthed the words that any other Ashaman said out loud. His eyes flew open as he seemed pressed into a new skin; the Oath rod had worked, even if he had not spoken out loud. From the gathered men a collective gasp rose. The ceremony went on though, and after but a moment Nhadnay found himself walking to his new Brothers, the Ashaman Al’Aman Val. A Ne’Horrn went a-hunting It had taken him until he had reached his full potential was finally reached, but Nhadnay wore the Dragon Pin. His new Brothers had welcomed him and jokingly led him to their quarters. Soon he was surrounded by faces smiling at him. Faces of old teachers and even of old students who, while once taught by him, had quickly climbed the ranks and required salutes while Nhadnay had stayed a Dedicated. But now it was visible that the Aman Val was a brotherhood and that he was home and that old friendships could once more be taken up. His first day as an Ashaman was spent settling in and learning the ropes of the Shen, and in the evening his Brothers took him out into the City. As a soldier and Dedicated Nhadnay had never touched any alcohol, it had always been a drink of the Masters and Mistresses, and he had not felt he had earned it. Now however, he had passed the Final Test, and gladly had his first ever beer. It was good, so he had another one. The evening passed nicely, and the mood just kept getting better as his Brothers kept talking and chanting along with the bawdy songs the scantily dressed singer was singing. Afterwards he would wonder if it had been the large quantities of alcohol he had consumed or the euphoric feelings of being home, and strong enough to be safe from the Ayyad, that drove him to it, but it would not matter in any way… When the singing girl jumped down for a moment to get a drink, Nhadnay jumped up, and for the first time in about fifty-five years he drew a deep breath and started singing a traditional song of his homeland, like he had done so many times before when the Females in the Ayyad Village wanted to be entertained. The odd song about some strange hunting beast, sang with a clear voice and in a dialect not a soul in the tavern had ever heard before, formed a sort of silence in the bar as many a head turned to him. One table in specific had a silence that could be cut with a knife. Seven ashaman Al’Aman Val sat staring wide-eyed at how their mute companion now stood singing for a whole room. His first three months as an ashaman were spent alternating between more questioning and private punishment. To toss an Aes Sedai His behind still sore from the peddling he had received from the Master of Soldiers, Nhadnay walked back to his rooms. He had rooms now, not just a single, simple Dedicated room. His entire life he had spent either sleeping in a small room with other men or in a smaller one on his own, and now he had living quarters, a study, a bedroom, a bathing room and yet another room to be used as study, bedroom or whatever was the point, it was most impressive. The smell of roast lamb reached his nostrils and drew his eyes to the table where a warm meal stood waiting for him. Gladly he sat down on a thickly pillowed chair and started eating. Halfways through the meal he was disturbed by a soft knock on the door. Calmly he stood, wiped his mouth and then went to open the door. A soldier was standing in salute, handing him a message. Nhadnay quickly broke a familiar seal and read through the contents, he then held up a hand to the soldier, a command to make the lad stay and wait for a response as he quickly wrote to Lea Sedai of the Green that he would be more than happy with her company for the evening and that she was welcome after Eight’ Toll. He put his own seal on it and sent the Soldier back before returning to his dinner. The green had always been pleasant company, even while he still had been a dedicated. –he had stopped mingling with accepted about twenty years earlier, they were just too young, it felt wrong. And now he actually looked forward to meeting the Aes Sedai as a form of equal. After his session with Sarecer though. The old Rei had been teaching him a number of new, Shensecret weaves, and Nhadnay would not miss any of those sessions short of his Stormsickness. A few hours later Nhadnay once more sat in his rooms, silently going over a new weave he had been taught, when another nock came to the door. He got up and opened the door to let the smiling sister in, as usual, she looked beautiful with her pale hair and complexion and a sweet face holding eyes like deep pools that could drown a man were he not careful. They sat for a while to just talk, and as the evening drew nearer, so did they, as they had so many nights before. Later on, as they lay together in his bed, she suddenly sat up, her silhouette framed by moonlight; her face got a serious cast to it. Nhadnay straightened up slightly and looked at her, wondering what bothered her. “Well… I was thinking, now that you finally wear that dragon, I might as well ask before one of my sisters does.” It almost sounded as if she were talking to herself, but the following question was clearly aimed at Nhadnay. “Will you accept a bond and become my warder?” It felt as if a northern wind had blew in and frozen Nhadnay on the spot. With a big lump of frozen fire in his belly he looked at the woman before him whom he had considered a friend. He had considered her a friend… a friend… how dare she ask this?. The ice melted and the fire burned higher and higher and soon roared in him as it never had. How DARE she think of doing that to me The green could read no warning in Nhadnays exotic face, and therefore her surprise was all the greater when a shield slammed onto her. Her eyes bulged, and she did not even manage to say anything –not that she would have known what to say- before Nhadnay picked her out of the bed, slung her over his shoulder and walked off to the door before roughly tossing her outside and closing the door once more. With a few wards on the door, Nhadnay did not worry about the shield which would not last all too long, or the two warders which, by now, would be halfways up to his rooms; he had other things on his mind. Clad in nothing but the darkness of the night and some vague moonlight he walked in his rooms, shivering, his hands trembling. He had believed the woman to be a friend, not another one who would enslave him. I am Ashaman al’ Aman Val. I am Free I am Ashaman al’ Aman Val. I am Free Life amongst Death Tiredly Nhadnay and Ronan and Vilore rode back to the city looming up ahead of them. Behind them followed Merun, Vilores gaidin and the rest of their Kandoran troup of soldiers, Gal, their commander riding next to Merun, talking softly. Behind the soldiers was a litter with an injured armsman and behind that one, far too close behind that one, the blight. At least we only lost two this time Nhadnay thought, and as if the Sister could read his mind she added, softly “Yurek will be better once we reach Cachin and I get to treat him in peace.” He nodded softly, two was a fair number, compared to the trollocks that had been felled. The rest of the trip went by in silence as Nhadnay once more wondered about what he was doing in this Lightforsaken place. As they reached the castle and the Sword, the report was grim, another set of leagues lost to the shadow, more and more trollocks, on either sides of the blightborder, and two more souls that could be stricken from the soldiers lists. Afterwards Nhadnay made his way to his rooms. He had not yet set a foot into the room when he was met by Nija, the old Housemaid who whisked him off to the baths, talking about how he should not meet the Lady like that. Still wet in his hair, Nhadnay once more took up his uniform, by now cleaned to a pristine black. And walked into his chambers. This time he could at least set two feet into them before being stopped. An infant was gently placed in his arms. “Nhadnay, meet Joyni, your daughter.” He had stared apprehensively at the baby for a moment, looked up at Lady Deinas face and then back at the child, his child. He had numerous children, he had after all been breeding stock for years, but he had never met any of his children. Now he held one in his arms, a young, wrinkled little human. Tears welled up in his eyes. Later on that evening he sat by the fire and spoke with Deina. She was something strange, not his wife, but more than any of the other women he had been with before. Sure, he had noticed her belly grow under the past months, and knew what that meant, but it just ended there. For the first time ever he felt like a Father. Leading a circle “Thereisnotime, justsentabloodymessengerandletusgo!” Ronan stood and blinked at his Brother. He knew the weak channeler could speak, and had heard him do so on very few occasions, his voice always sounding somehow forced. This on the other hand… Nhadnays voice was highpitched, sounding unlike anything he’d ever heard before, and fast beyond reconning. He blinked as a lack of understanding. Annoyed at Ronans stupidity Nhadnay clenched his teeth and forced himself to speak slowly and clearly, as if talking to an old woman. “Send. A. Messenger!” the voice was still as high pitched as before but now Ronan at least seemed to understand him. He pulled a young soldier to his side told him something in quick tones, opened a gateway and pushed the boy through. They both ran down the hall, getting ready to meet the horde of Trollocks that stormed towards Kandors main city, meeting Vilore Sedai and her warder on the way, not far behind came two scrawny browns who had arrived on their way to Shienar last night . The reports had been beyond grim and they knew that they were most likely heading to their deaths, but if they could hold of the Trollocks long enough for Ronans message to reach Sarecer, more ashaman would soon join the battle, and most likely Aes Sedai as well, for the Yellow would have sent a message to the White Tower without doubt; if the Browns had sent any message, he did not know, but he was glad non-the-less about two more channelers to join them, even if they looked like they were barely strong enough to hold more then one book. The battle was grim. How this many Trollocks could have made it this close to Cachin still remained a mistery, but frankly not important in the midst of battle. But after some time, it calmed down. Too early. The five channelers, in a circle led by Ronan, climbed the hill whose base was now filled with corpses, trollock and human alike, and gaped in horror at what they saw. An army of trollocks of a size unseen since the fall or Maradon or the Trollock Wars made its way like an arrow towards them. They shared a resigned look. “We should do as much damage as possible. But I know can think of no weave for that magnitude, any suggestions ladies?” he never even glanced at Nhadnay as he asked it. After all, Nhadnays skills in combat with Saidin had proven miniscule. But thee answer came in a laden voice. “I heal, old friend, and know nothing that you do not already.” The other women nodded grimly, saying they could not help either. Then all of a sudden Nhadnay spoke up; saying that he had an idea; something that might be able to keep the trollocks at bay at least a little while. Vilore looked skeptical, but Ronan, who had once been a student of Nhadnay, remembered his former tutor’s skill at handling Saidin. With only a small hesitation he handed over leadership of the circle and instantly gasped. When he saw the arrowlike charge the Trollocks were approaching in, Nhadnay, immediately thought of a weave he had once been shown; one of the most intricate ones he had ever seen. One that he could make… just never strong enough. But it would fit perfectly here. As soon as he felt the Circle in his control, he wasted no time marveling in wonder about the amount of Saidin he now had under his control, but instantly started weaving the beyond intricate weave. Even weaving as fast as he could, the weave took close to a minute before every last strand of the One power lay just right. Not strong enough The thought drifted through the void. He could not afford the weave not to be strong enough. It needs to be stronger he drew more of the One power, feeling a soft sweetness that could only be Saidar coursing through him, hiding amongst the river of Saidin that came from Ronan and his Angreal. . Not strong enough Fear of losing the weave made him draw beyond anything he could have ever imagined before. It felt like flames licked his skin as he even reached the limit of what he could possibly draw in the circle and with the angreal. When he felt like he was about to faint, his arm moved, as if throwing something towards the first trollocks. There was a blinding light, and then a speck of black moving towards him with great speed, and then there was nothing. Strength “Papa? - I think he’s waking up…. Papa?” It had been nearly a month after the assault on Cachin. He had woken up before, but never more than a few moments, and all he ever could remember would be the the blindness and the pain; the headache and aching of his whole body. Now all but the headache had faded, and while everything seemed overlit, even in the dark room, Nhadnay could make out the face of his daughter and one of the elder Ndore al’Mordero. This time he stayed awake and learned what had happened. The Aes Sedai and Ashaman from the Towers had only just arrived at Cachin when they could feel the massive amount being channeled nearby, it had been a beacon to spur them on even more. When they arrived beyond the foot of the hill, still littered with dying trollocks and soldiers taking care of their own, and made their way up to the hill they were struck with awe. On the hill lay six bodies, three of them charred beyond recognition, and one, stuck under what once had been Ronan, barely alive and in need of a full circle of Yellow and Death Dancers to make it through. What took away their breaths though, was the massive cone of devastation before them, a cone, starting at the first trollockbody and going on for spans. Everything for as far as the eye could see, beyond that first trollock was seared away, the air still feeling hot with but a few tendrils of smoke making their way up. If any trollock or halfman had survived the onslaught, they were no-where to be seen. Ronan, Vilore, Uida, Nerim and Merun were granted official rites and honors at their funeral, Nhadnay was kept under close watch as he healed slowly. Most of the channelers were aware of Nhadnays weak strength, and did not bother to find out who had caused the destruction when Ronan was the obvious choice. There were only two Aman Val who suspected otherwise, for they knew Ronan did not possess the skill to make that weave. The only person they shared that knowledge with was Sarecer, their Rei, a fact unbeknown, but suspected by Nhadnay. Of dreams and War Nearly 25 years had passed, and Nhadnay still lived in Cachin, his daughter grown into a beautiful young woman, had left to the White Tower two years earlier. And then the dreams started feeling urgent once more. As usual with dreams he wrote them down after they had been and tried to read them lateron. Mostly he kept them to himself, but now, these recurring dreams he shared with his Rei, feeling they were a matter of importance to the Towers. And true enough, as his dreams had told him, dangerous problems started brewing and then escalated into a war for almost the whole of the southern Westlands. Nhadnay prayed to the Birds that Sarecer had found any use for what his dreams had revealed. After about five years the war finally settled down, with the Fused towers as victor, and Nhadnay started slowly ending his life in the borderlands, feeling that it was time to return home. He was not the only one; one morning a company of Aman Val brothers arrived to take up duty at the borderlands; handing him a summons to the Black Tower, he was to meet his Rei. The next morning Nhadnay left the borderlands to return to Tar Valon. Edited by Nhadnay, Nov 6 2009, 03:13 AM.
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Nhadnay Tüm YellowBritches Ashaman al'Aman Val | |
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| Reor Rahidram | Oct 13 2009, 03:06 AM Post #4 |
M'hael
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That is like the awesomest bio ever.  Very detailed, I like that. 
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 Talents: Travelling, Spinning Earthfire, Inverting Weaves Artwork by M.Luisa Giliberti. | |
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| Nephuria Sul'aron | Oct 13 2009, 01:20 PM Post #5 |
Amyrlin Seat
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That is amazing, I approve. |
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| Nhadnay | Nov 5 2009, 09:22 AM Post #6 |
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Asha'man al'Aman Val
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edited to take out a small circle issue. and i'll bite any who comment on the other fault that's still there :p cba to change more on it |
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Nhadnay Tüm YellowBritches Ashaman al'Aman Val | |
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6:41 PM Nov 26
